


The Thrill of Under Me You

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: Negotiating a successful relationship between three emotionally guarded men with a tangled and painful history together is a path paved with pitfalls; Remus devises a plan he hopes will smooth it out a little.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2006. This is a story about a threesome without a three-way. Overall, the story is Remus/Severus/Sirius, but in terms of sexual dynamics, it breaks down into 3 different pairings. The title comes from "i like my body" by e.e. cummings.

Severus knew they were in trouble when Remus called a meeting at the dining table. Normally when there was a problem to be sorted out, Remus talked with them individually, or they discussed the matter in the parlor in comfort. Remus sat in his chair by the fireplace, Sirius sprawled on the floor at his feet, and Severus sat on the sofa, and there was tea, usually with biscuits. Severus rather doubted there would be tea and biscuits this time. 

Remus' expression was somber as he sat at the head of the table. Sirius threw himself into the chair at Remus' right, slouching with his arms folded across his chest and a sullen look marring his fine-boned features, and his grey eyes had taken on the dark, ominous cast of a thunderstorm. Severus sat on the opposite side of the table from Sirius and put a chair between himself and Remus, his posture ramrod-straight and his hands folded neatly in his lap. 

"I don't suppose I need to explain why I called this meeting," Remus said without preamble. His voice was as solemn as his expression, and the look he bestowed on them as he spoke was reproachful. 

Severus returned it with a haughty stare and lifted his chin, but said nothing. Sirius only looked even more sullen, if that was possible. 

"It's been three months," Remus said. This time, Severus thought he heard a weary edge in his voice. "I'd have thought you would both be above this childish brawling by now." 

"He started it!" Sirius protested, pointing at Severus, who immediately puffed up and prepared to spit poison. 

"You threw the first hex, you addlepated mutt!" 

"Stop!" Remus held up both hands, the commanding tone they rarely ever heard from him quelling the row before it could get started. "I don't care who started it or why. We should be beyond this kind of behavior. You both agreed to give this arrangement a try, but things are no better now than before we moved in together." 

Severus smoothed his ruffled feathers as Remus' words dredged up memories of that time. He remembered how apprehensive he had been as they made their plans, each of them contributing to the new household so their cohabitation would begin on equal footing. Severus had sold his house at Spinners End, Remus had contributed part of the bounty he had collected from the Ministry for killing Fenrir Greyback, and Sirius had paid his share from his old vault at Gringott's. Sirius and Potter had reached an agreement: Potter would keep #12 Grimmauld Place at Sirius' insistence if Sirius would take back his vault and all its contents at Potter's insistence. Sirius was proud, but he wasn't stupid; he knew he needed money to live on now that he was back from beyond the Veil, and he had accepted the bargain, although he had privately admitted to Remus and Severus that it hadn't been a hardship to give up the house. 

The house wasn't large or lavishly furnished, but it accommodated their individual needs, and it was comfortable, by far the most cozy place Severus had ever lived. But in spite of having helped pay for and furnish the house and having a voice in managing the household, he still thought of it as a house rather than a home. That was, he knew, in large part due to the ongoing hostilities between himself and Sirius, but in spite of Remus' interventions and countless discussions, neither of them had broken the decades-old cycle. 

"The bottom line is this," Remus said, his voice full of the quiet authority that let Severus know whatever Remus was about to say was set in stone. "I'm tired of being in the middle. I'm tired of being the lynch pin that holds this relationship together. I cannot do it any longer. I love you both, and the last thing I want to do is choose between you. I don't know how to begin trying to choose, and having to choose would break my heart, but things cannot continue as they have been. The two of you must find a way to connect with each other as well as with me, or this is simply not going to work." 

Severus' insides froze, and he was certain his heart stopped beating at that pronouncement. He didn't want Remus to choose either, because he had no doubt that Remus would not choose him. He would be the one asked to pack his bags and leave, and Sirius would be the one whose gloating laughter would follow Severus out the door. 

"Talking hasn't worked," Remus continued, blowing out a frustrated sigh as he glanced back and forth between the two of them. 

Bowing his head, Severus studied his hands and wondered if perhaps he ought to spare himself the humiliation of being asked to leave and volunteer to go now. 

"So I thought perhaps changing the way we do some things might help ease the tension between the two of you," Remus said, and Severus peeked at him from beneath his lashes, but he said nothing, merely waited. 

"Such as?" Sirius spoke up, and to Severus' ears, he sounded both a little impatient and a little apprehensive. 

"Such as our sleeping arrangement," Remus replied. "I'm always in the middle. I think we should switch who sleeps in the middle, perhaps every three nights or so." 

There was a silence from the other side of the table, and then Severus could practically hear the insouciant shrug in Sirius' voice. "All right. If that's what you want." 

"I hope it might help." There was another silence, and when Severus peeked again, he found Remus watching him with a questioning look, as if he wasn't certain how Severus was going to react to his suggestion. "Severus, what do you think?" 

Privately, Severus thought it wouldn't make a damned bit of difference, but he shrugged, ignoring the way his stomach was roiling and clenching. "If that is what you want," he said in as noncommittal a tone as he could muster. 

"It isn't just about what I want," Remus said, and Severus heard him sigh again. "It's about us - all three of us. I'm trying to do _something_ to help. If either of you have any other suggestions to prevent our home from being a constant war zone, do feel free to chime in at any time." 

That statement was met with resounding silence, and when Severus glanced up at last, he saw Remus nod before bracing his hands on the table and pushing himself to his feet. 

"Right. We'll begin tonight. Sirius, you'll be in the middle for the next three nights. After that, it will be your turn, Severus. All right?" 

"Fine." Sirius' response was clipped, and he looked about as pleased as Severus felt, which was surprising. Severus would have thought he'd be excited by the possibility of Severus being forced out so he could have Remus all to himself. It was, Severus thought, what Sirius had wanted all along. 

"Fine," Severus said, schooling his features into a blank mask. "Are we finished? I have work to do." 

Remus turned to him, eyebrows lifting in visible surprise. "We haven't had dinner yet." 

"I need to finish some paperwork from the Twindle case last week," Severus replied, the lie flowing easily off his tongue. 

It helped that he wasn't telling a complete falsehood. He _did_ have paperwork to complete, but it was on his desk at the Ministry, and there was no particular reason for it to be finished tonight. Being a Hit Wizard was, in his opinion, much like being a double agent: long stretches of tedium and paperwork punctuated by bursts of adrenaline-pumping excitement and potentially life-threatening danger. But it paid well, and he didn't feel his talents were being wasted or unappreciated. On the contrary, the Ministry wanted to make certain his talents were being used in a way that was undeniably for their side. 

"But tonight is our night," Remus said, looking uncertain for the first time during the discussion, and it gave Severus' petty, vindictive side satisfaction to see it. 

He was tempted to reply that he had a headache, but after Remus' announcement, he wasn't inclined to rock the boat, especially not when he felt his odds of being tossed overboard were high enough as it was. But he couldn't keep up the pretense that he was fine rather than scared out of his wits. Not tonight. Not even though it meant giving up precious quiet, private time with Remus, knowing he wouldn't have the chance again until three nights hence. 

Severus and Sirius had yet to spend any time alone together without one or the both of them ending up with spell damage; they certainly hadn't engaged in any intimacy, not even with Remus acting as the buffer between them. They were a threesome divided into two pairs, and Remus had insisted on a schedule, not only to prevent Severus and Sirius from squabbling over spending time with him, but - as he put it - to keep himself sane and not living on the point of exhaustion as well. 

Thus it was that Remus had devised a schedule in which he spent an evening with Sirius, the next evening with Severus, and then took the third evening off from both of them. That way, they all had time to themselves, and Severus and Sirius couldn't argue over the other having more than his fair share of time with Remus. 

How that time was spent varied from evening to evening, or at least it did with Severus. He didn't know how Remus and Sirius spent their time; he didn't dare ask lest he learn they had wild monkey sex every single time that left Remus exhausted but more satisfied than he was with Severus. As for Severus' time with Remus, sometimes they talked, sometimes they nestled quietly together in bed, and sometimes they had sex, depending on their mood and needs at the time. 

Tonight, however, Severus knew he couldn't carry on a conversation as if everything was fine, and he couldn't go through the motions of intimacy with this sword hanging over his head, knowing it was doomed to fall. He was going to lose everything because he had a temper, he held grudges, and he and Sirius damned Black couldn't get along. 

"I have work to do," he repeated, desperate to get away - to hole up in the solitude of his workroom, which even Sirius had the decency to respect, while he sorted through this mess and rebuilt his walls so he could continue to function without letting on to either of them that he was slowly bleeding to death while he waited for the inevitable to occur. 

"Oh." Remus' expression shifted from uncertain to crestfallen. "Well, if it can't wait..." He mustered a half-smile. "Would you like me to bring you a tray later?" 

"No." Severus shook his head. He couldn't swallow a bite past the tightness of his throat, much less keep it down. "I'm not hungry." 

"All right." Remus nodded, and Severus could see Remus' own masks falling into place. "I suppose we'll see you at bedtime, then." 

"I suppose." 

A quick glance at the table showed Sirius was still sitting there, watching the exchange with the sullen look back in place, although why he was pouting when he was getting an extra night with Remus was something Severus didn't understand. He had expected Sirius to be dancing on the table by this point, but perhaps Sirius was annoyed by Remus' seeming disappointment. 

But at this point, Severus didn't care about anything other than escape, and he pivoted sharply on his heel and strode away, his robes billowing as he stalked off to his workroom, head held high. He might be the one destined to be tossed out on his ear, but he damned well wasn't going to give either of them the satisfaction of seeing him suffer. 

Immersing himself in the soothing bubble of his cauldron, he let his mind wander as he sliced, chopped, and stirred. It was tempting to enact the idea that had occurred to him earlier: leave before he could be thrown out. But if he was to lose what he wanted most, then perhaps it was best to sacrifice his pride and enjoy the time he had left. There would be plenty of time in the long, lonely years stretching out ahead of him to cling to his pride. Right now, it made more sense to take what he could get while he could get it. 

Caught up in his own troubled thoughts and in the comfort of familiar work, he lost track of time, and when he finally thought to look at the clock, he found it was nearly midnight. Remus and Sirius would already be in bed; they had to work in the morning, too. Since the harsh werewolf employment laws had been tempered, Remus had been able to take a job working for Weasley Wizard Wheezes, albeit in product development rather than sales because having a known werewolf greeting the customers still wasn't the wisest idea. 

Sirius had been so intrigued that he persuaded the twins to hire him as well, and he and Remus spent their days reverting to adolescence and devising endless pranks, japes and toys that would have made Severus' blood pressure skyrocket had he still been a teacher. As it was, he expressly forbade either of them to test any products on him at the risk of life and limb, and even Sirius had managed to resist the temptation to bring their work home, so to speak. But Severus had to admit they were well-suited for the job, and the Weasley twins were pleased and perhaps a little awed to have the creators of the infamous Marauders Map working with them. Everyone was happy with the arrangement. 

Except Severus, who hated Weasley Wizard Wheezes, who couldn't contribute anything when Remus and Sirius discussed their work over dinner, and who burned with resentment when he thought about how perfectly their lives were in sync, right down to working together. _He_ was the one who was out of step as usual. He simply didn't fit in. Not with them, either individually or together. Not at work, where he was still regarded with suspicion and given a wide berth. Not anywhere anymore. 

It was enough to make him want to chuck it all and run off to Tahiti. Perhaps he would, once they dumped him. 

He climbed the stairs and made his way to the bedroom slowly. The door was standing open, and they had left a lamp on for him, which was a bittersweet gesture at best since it allowed him to see how they were snuggled up together in bed. Sirius curled around Remus' body, the pair of them fitting together as if they had been made for each other. Sirius was a spooner; he liked nothing better than plastering himself against Remus' back and staying there all night, which was fine, because normally, Remus was in the middle, and Remus would spoon up against Severus. It was the one time of day when Severus felt connected to both of them. 

But where was his place now? He and Sirius didn't touch each other during the day. How was he supposed to overcome that distance at night? With Sirius in the middle, Severus only had three options: take the risk of spooning against Sirius, keep to his side of the bed, or sleep downstairs on the sofa. Option one wasn't really an option. He doubted Sirius wanted him so close, and he wasn't about to take a chance and face certain rejection and recrimination. Option three would lead to Remus questioning him and probably A Talk, and he didn't want that either. 

That left option two, and so he changed into his nightshirt and climbed into bed, pausing as he studied them, a little ache throbbing in the pit of his stomach; they had achieved the kind of connection and sense of belonging he longed for. He had thought he might find it here, but apparently not. 

Severus stretched out his hand and let it hover just over Sirius' bare shoulder. He could close the distance between them, but then what? Sirius would probably wake up and snap at him to keep his greasy hands to himself. 

He yanked his hand away and burrowed under the covers, rolling onto his side with his back to them and keeping close to the edge of the bed. It was the worst night's sleep he'd had in months. He slept fitfully and woke early even by his standards as a habitual early riser. He didn't bother trying to steal a few more winks as he might have done had they been in their usual position, which was warm and cozy and comforting. 

Instead, he slid out of bed and made his way quietly down the corridor to the loo to bathe and dress, and then he went downstairs to prepare breakfast and leave it on the table protected by a warming charm. As he finished, he could hear bumping noises upstairs that signaled they had awakened at last, and he slipped away to the Ministry before either of them came downstairs. 

The second night of Sirius sleeping in the middle was much like the first, and by the end of the third day, Severus was tired and cranky from lack of sleep. He dawdled and dithered in his little cubicle at the Ministry, not wanting to return to the house. It was Sirius' night alone with Remus, so he would be left to his own devices anyway, and once again, his options were limited. It wasn't as if he had friends he could visit; he had never really had friends, even before... Well, before. Since, the people he had once considered the closest thing he had to friends were either dead or distanced from him. They had accepted that he wasn't a traitor, but that he had killed someone who meant more to them than he did wasn't something most people could forget. There was no house where he could just pop round for a visit, no place where he would be unreservedly welcomed. 

He finished trimming his quills and put them aside with a quiet sigh. His only other option was to spend the evening in his workroom again, but he wasn't eager to do that. He simply didn't want to go back to the house and face either of them. Not yet. 

Instead, he sent a message via owl to let them know he would be home late. It had been drummed into his head during the first weeks of their relationship that one did not spend an evening out without letting one's house mates know, because it resulted in a barrage of questions and scolding about courtesy and not causing one's house mates undue worry. Given there were still a few of the Dark Lord's followers who had eluded capture and who would love to see the three of them dead - or in Sirius' case, dead again - Severus supposed they had a point. 

He went to the Leaky Cauldron and ordered shepherd's pie and a pint, and then he ordered two more pints while he was delaying the inevitable. He was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, having abstained for most of his life - having one's wits muddled when one was a double agent was foolhardy at best and potentially fatal at worst - and he was pleasantly tipsy when he finally stopped stalling and returned to the house. 

All was quiet downstairs when he let himself in, and he supposed they were upstairs in the second bedroom, which they referred to as the Assignation Room. Remus had insisted on the master bedroom remaining a neutral place for all of them to share, not to mention it could be awkward if two of them were indulging in intimacy and the third was ready to go to sleep. Thus they used the other bedroom as both a guest room and a place to have private time without the risk of inconveniencing anyone or subjecting them to a sight they had rather not see. 

Severus didn't want to go upstairs and hear any telltale noises as he passed by the Assignation Room, so he went to the parlor and helped himself to the brandy instead. Eventually, he heard doors opening and closing and footsteps overhead, which meant they were probably finished doing whatever it was they had been doing, and it was safe to go upstairs. Severus wasn't in any rush, however; his limbs felt heavy, and moving seemed like too great an effort, and so he sat on the sofa and stared into the fire, his thoughts a messy jumble that he couldn't begin to sort out. 

"You're home." 

Remus' soft voice broke through Severus' reverie, and he rolled his head to peer blearily at Remus, who was standing in the doorway of the parlor wearing his faded flannel dressing gown and what appeared to be little else underneath. His hair was tousled, as if someone had been running their fingers through it, and Severus frowned and looked away. 

"And you're pissed," Remus added, his voice laced with surprise. 

"'M not," Severus retorted, refusing to look at Remus even when he moved to curl up on the sofa near, but not touching, Severus. "'M just relaxed." 

"Very relaxed, by the look of things." Remus regarded him silently for a long moment before speaking again. "Any particular reason why?" 

"Nothing else better to do." Severus shrugged and put his half-empty glass aside on the end table. Suddenly, he didn't want any more brandy. 

"Finding ways to occupy your time has never seemed to be a problem before." 

Severus shrugged again and said nothing. If he started to speak when alcohol had lifted the habitual restraints he kept on his tongue, there was no telling what might come out. 

Sighing, Remus rose to his feet and grasped Severus' arm. "Come on. I'll help you to bed." 

"No!" Severus yanked his arm free of Remus' grip. The flash of shocked hurt in Remus' eyes gave him a twinge of guilt, but not enough for him to turn docile. "I don't wanna go to bed." 

Remus fixed him with another long, steady look. "We'll talk about this tomorrow." 

"No." Severus lifted his chin proudly, enunciating each word carefully. "We will not. Talking doesn't solve shit." 

Remus' lips thinned, and he raked one hand through his hair, tousling it even more. "I don't know what you want, Severus. I don't know what to do anymore." 

"Nothing." Severus turned his face away, feeling exhausted down to his bones, and it wasn't just due to lack of sleep. "There's nothing." 

He slept on the sofa that night - although passed out on it would be more accurate, he supposed - and breakfast the next morning was an awkward, silent affair with Remus quiet and withdrawn, Sirius looking as grim as he had during the year he'd spent cooped up in Grimmauld Place, and Severus feeling as if his eyeballs were about to pop out of their sockets. He stopped by the apothecary before he went to work to purchase something - anything! - to alleviate his hangover, but nothing could dispel the icy fist clutching his heart. 

That night, it was his turn to sleep in the middle. He had come home on time and stayed away from beer and brandy, partly because he'd had enough alcohol to last him for a good long time, but mostly because he remembered enough to know he had made a mistake. Remus and Sirius' stilted behavior let him know they weren't happy with him, but he didn't know how to apologize or make things right. 

He wasn't even certain things _could_ be right again, if they ever had been in the first place. As much as he had wanted this, he didn't know what to do with it once he had it, and he was beginning to think he was better off alone. He didn't know how to conduct a relationship or have friends or do any other normal, healthy activity that involved other people. He wasn't used to having to compromise or change because there were people in his life who had to be taken into consideration. It was all new, unfamiliar territory for him, and it was strange and unsettling, and he didn't know what he was doing half the time. 

He wasn't cut out for a relationship, especially not this one. He didn't belong here, and the point was driven home as soon as he walked through the door. Dinner was as uncomfortable as breakfast had been, all of them pointedly ignoring the white elephant in the room. 

"It's our night tonight," Remus said in a too-casual tone while they were clearing away the dishes, and he didn't look at Severus as he spoke. "But I was wondering if we could defer it." 

Severus went still, but then he forced himself to move and to breathe and to continue stacking the plates to take into the kitchen instead of hurling them at the wall. "Fine," he replied, his tone clipped. "If that's what you want." 

It had been nearly a week since he'd had private time with Remus, but he supposed he didn't have any grounds for complaint since he had canceled the last time. Besides, he doubted they had anything to say to one another considering they hadn't been able to talk normally all day, and he wasn't in the mood for sex. 

He tightened his jaw and focused intently on the task of clearing away the table, determined to shut out everything and everyone until he could get away and be alone. He was so intent on ignoring the rest of the world that the touch of Remus' hand on his arm caught him by surprise and made him flinch, and he grimaced, disgusted with his lack of control. 

"I think we could all stand a break, under the circumstances. I hope you aren't angry." There was concern in Remus' voice, and any other time, it would have mollified Severus, but now, it just made him tired. 

"I'm neither angry nor surprised," he said, moving away from the table - and Remus - and carrying the dishes into the kitchen, where Sirius was splashing water all over the counter with his vigorous dishwashing technique. Normally, Severus would have made a snide remark about it, but he couldn't muster the energy. Instead, he placed the dishes on the counter and departed, his role in the washing up process complete. 

He remained in his workroom all evening, although he wasn't in the mood to brew anything; he sat and flipped through the latest _Cauldrons Compendium_ and waited for the hours to pass. When it was bedtime, he went upstairs with Remus and Sirius; he couldn't dawdle since he was in the middle, and he would have had to crawl over one of them if he went to bed late. 

He undressed in silence and climbed into bed, but there was no spooning that night. When they took their places on either side of him and rolled to face away from him, he lay on his back, alone, lonely, and frozen to the core, and he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep like this. He couldn't _live_ like this. 

Around three o'clock in the morning, Severus decided he'd had enough. He slipped out of bed and got dressed as carefully and quietly as possible, and he went downstairs to begin packing up his workroom. The chill of the still, cold hours before dawn seeped deep into his bones until he felt as if he would never be warm again, but he worked steadily, his mind blank as he went through the motions of packing like an automaton. 

"Severus, what are you doing?" Remus stood barefoot on the chilly wood floor, bleary-eyed and sleep-tousled, but even though his voice was still drowsy-raspy, he sounded alarmed. 

"I'm doing exactly what it looks like I'm doing," Severus replied without stopping or looking up. 

" _Why_?" There was anguish underlying the single word that arrested Severus and made him look at Remus at last, and he was shocked to see abject misery in Remus' eyes. He had thought it would be a relief for all of them if he departed quickly and without a fuss. 

"Like you said, this isn't working," he said, straightening as he turned to face Remus. "I thought it best to leave before I was asked to go." 

"You're assuming I'd want you to go." 

"Do you really expect me to believe you would choose me over him?" Severus didn't bother to temper his scathing tone. 

"Do you really believe it would be so easy for me to choose?" Remus retorted, moving further into the room and bracing his fists on his hips. "I told you both that it would break my heart to choose, and I meant it. Losing one of you - either of you - would be like losing a limb, and I would feel the loss for the rest of my life. I don't know who I'd choose. I don't want to choose at all." 

"All the more reason for me to make the decision for you." Severus turned away, viciously squashing the tiny flare of hope Remus' words evoked. 

"Is it so easy for you to walk away from us, then? Away from me? Has this - have we - meant nothing to you?" Remus' voice was filled with pain, and Severus closed his eyes briefly, his heart wrenching in his chest. 

"It is the most difficult thing I have ever had to do," he said quietly, only able to say the words because he wasn't looking at Remus. "But better that than continue to live like this. No matter what you might feel for me, I am the outsider here. You and he are longtime friends, you work together, you share common interests, and you are not damaged." 

That evoked a bark of mirthless laughter from Remus. "A werewolf, an ex-convict brought back to life, and a former Death Eater - and you think we aren't all broken in our own ways?" 

Severus shook his head and didn't answer, and after a moment, he felt Remus' presence close by followed by a light touch on his arm. 

"I don't understand," Remus said softly. "Everything you said - everything you did - it made me believe you had feelings for him too." 

"I did!" The words burst out before Severus could stop them, and he grimaced and turned away. "I do." It was the first time he had admitted the truth aloud, and he decided whoever had said the truth would set you free was full of shit. The truth was terrifying, especially when there was a damned good chance of it being flung back in your face. 

Remus' slender fingers tightened on the sleeve of Severus' jacket, curling into the fabric. "I had made my peace with the loss. I was happy with the way things were between us. It was your idea to bring him back, not mine. You did the research. You told me it was possible." 

"I thought you were pining for him!" 

"No less than you were," Remus shot back, and Severus flinched at the well-aimed barb. "You wanted him back as much as I did, so why are you leaving? Why have you not been able to connect with him as you did with me?"

Severus drew himself up proudly. "Because I have no intention of subjecting myself to the humiliation of being rejected when it's clear he would prefer I was out of the way. He wants you, not me. He endures me because he has to in order to get what he really wants, but all I am to him is an obligation - an accouterment he must accept in order to be with you." 

He had known the risk, of course. Just because he was responsible for bringing Sirius back from beyond the Veil didn't mean Sirius would view him in a different light. It didn't mean Sirius would find him attractive or suddenly desire him or that they could put the past to rest, and Severus could finally admit that he had wanted to kiss Sirius as much as he had wanted to kill him all these years. But for once in his life, Severus had been hopeful, even optimistic, and he had wanted to take the risk, not only for Remus, but for himself. It was bloody typical that his plan had backfired spectacularly.

Remus fell silent, gazing up at him with a speculative look in his eyes. "What if I can prove you aren't an obligation?" he asked at last, and Severus let out a scoffing noise. "I mean it. What if I can prove you're wrong about him?"

"I would say you're so desperate to make things work, you're grasping at straws." But Severus wasn't above a bit of straw grasping himself; as little hope as he had of things working out in his favor, he found himself listening rather than pushing Remus aside and resuming his task. 

"Give me this weekend." Remus' expression shifted to the same focused intensity that Severus saw just before Remus fucked him through the mattress on those nights when Remus was feeling particularly randy or aggressive, and Severus shivered instinctively in response to the sight. "I have an idea, but I need time to implement it." 

Severus hesitated, wavering in his resolve to give up and go. He didn't want to remain and end up humiliated, but if there was a chance...

"Very well," he said at last, and Remus closed his eyes, appearing to sag with relief. "One last chance. But if it doesn't work, I will leave on Monday." 

"Fair enough." Remus nodded, and then he released Severus' sleeve and curved his arms around Severus' neck instead, shifting closer and pressing against him. 

He nuzzled his cheek against Severus', and Severus closed his eyes, the familiarity of the gesture making him ache with longing even as the rasp of Remus' stubbled cheek sent a little ripple of pleasure down his spine. Before he could think twice about the wisdom of it, he wound his arms around Remus in return, pulling him closer, and he could feel Remus relaxing in his embrace. It felt so normal and so right that for a moment, he almost forgot his world was on the verge of falling apart. 

"I'm sorry," Remus murmured, and then he pressed a kiss just beneath Severus' ear. "I was trying to make it better for all of us. I thought you were having trouble letting your guard down, but with enough time, you'd adjust and let go a little. I didn't realize I'd made things so much worse." He pulled back enough so he could look at Severus, regret clear to read in his blue-green eyes. "I shouldn't have put you off tonight, either." 

The apology helped loosen the tight knot that had been constricting Severus' chest for the last few days, and he nodded an acknowledgment. When Remus slid one hand up to tangle it in his hair and drew him into a light, gentle kiss, he didn't resist. After days of discord, it was a relief to feel connected again, and Remus' touch was a soothing balm. 

"Come back to bed," Remus murmured against his lips, and Severus' stomach clenched again.

"I don't want to be in the middle," he said tightly, remembering how awful it had been to lie there for hours with the two of them keeping their distance from him. 

"You don't have to be," Remus reassured him, releasing him and stepping back before clasping his hand. "Please come to bed. We need it. I need it." 

Severus nodded again and let Remus lead him back upstairs, relieved that he wouldn't face that awful situation again. He'd rather sleep on the cold floor of his workroom than endure that again. But it was Remus who took the middle spot, and when Severus climbed into bed, it was Remus who spooned up behind him, draping one arm across his waist and nestling close, and the tension that had plagued Severus for days was released on a shuddery sigh. He closed his eyes and reached for Remus' hand, drawing it closer and tighter around himself. He was too cynical and afraid to let himself hope Remus' plan would work, but at least he had more time with them, and perhaps there wouldn't be as much tension as there had been.


	2. Chapter 2

When Severus awoke the next morning, he was alone in the bed, and a glance at the clock on the bedside table revealed he had slept far later than was his custom. Little wonder, he supposed, given he had been exhausted, and not just physically. But it was Saturday, which meant he didn't have to worry about being on time for work, and he rolled onto his back and stretched leisurely before relaxing into his pillow again. He wasn't in any hurry to get up and face whatever awaited him downstairs. Usually, they spent Saturday and Sunday afternoons together. Remus, the eternal optimist, often arranged some kind of activity to foster good will and togetherness, which generally ended the same way: Severus and Sirius sulking, not speaking to each other, and sporting some kind of bruise, scrape, or spell damage, and Remus with frayed patience and a skull-splitting headache. 

It wasn't that they were trying to be quarrelsome or give Remus a migraine. It just happened. Remus always asked them to refrain from winding each other up "just this once", and they promised they would, but then Sirius flung a thoughtless insult at Severus, or Severus couldn't curb his tongue when an opportunity to take a jab at Sirius arose, tempers flared, and they were off. It made him wonder if things really could ever be different, or if they were fighting a losing battle. 

Finally, he decided he had procrastinated as long as he could reasonably get away with, and he rolled out of bed, gathered his clothes, and headed off to the loo to perform his usual morning routine, bathe, and dress. When he returned to the bedroom to make up the bed, he found the task was already finished, and both Remus and Sirius were there, apparently waiting for him. Remus stood at the end of the bed, while Sirius sat cross-legged in the middle of it, and Severus stopped short in the doorway, surprised and a little apprehensive about what this meeting could mean. 

"I discussed the situation with Sirius this morning, and he has agreed to go along with my plan as well," Remus said, beckoning Severus to come further into the room. 

"What exactly is your plan?" Severus asked cautiously as he moved toward the bed but didn't take a seat on it. 

"Yes, I'd like to know what I agreed to," Sirius chimed in, and Remus regarded them both with his usual placidity, a small, pleased smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Normally, the sight of that little smile made Severus want to snog him senseless, but not this time; there was too much at stake for him to be distracted by his libido. 

"After talking to both of you and giving the matter some thought, the problem seems clear," Remus said, turning to face them both. "You're stuck in the same old pattern you've had since you were eleven years old, and the reason is, you're both too-" He paused, appearing to think about his next word carefully. "-proud to let down your guard and make the first move. You each want the other to reach out first because it's safer that way, and you feel angry and rejected when that keeps not happening, and so the pattern of lashing out continues." 

Severus shifted his weight from foot to foot and took an uncommon interest in the pattern of the rug, and a sidelong peek from beneath his lashes showed Sirius had suddenly found his fingernails utterly fascinating. 

"Whether you believe me or not," Remus continued in a gentle tone, gazing at both of them with affection, "I know you both want the same thing. Our situation isn't hopeless. It's simply a matter of finding a way to let you connect without either of you being forced into a position of unwanted vulnerability, and I believe I've found a way to do so: role-playing." 

"Role-playing?" Sirius glanced up, fixing Remus with a quizzical look. 

"Yes." Remus nodded and smiled, appearing quite pleased with himself. "In fact, I've even devised what I think will be the perfect scenario." 

Severus wasn't certain whether to feel relieved that there was a possible solution to their problem or concerned that facing the Dark Lord had been a cake walk in comparison to whatever Remus had planned. 

"I," Remus announced proudly, "am going to be Severus' pimp." 

About a minute of stunned silence greeted that remark. Sirius looked gobsmacked, and Severus framed and discarded several responses, settling at last on one that was unoriginal, yet expressed his reaction succinctly. 

" _What_?" 

"I'm going to be your pimp," Remus repeated, looking calm and self-satisfied as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about his remark. "Severus, you will be the prostitute in our little game, and Sirius, you will be the client. I thought perhaps we could rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron. It's best if we do this away from home to avoid any associations that might hinder the proceedings." 

Severus was on the verge of demanding why _he_ had to be the prostitute, but then he decided he liked the idea of Sirius paying to have sex with him rather than the other way around even if it was only in the context of a game. Besides, he knew Sirius preferred to top, which was fine, because he preferred to bottom, and the more he thought about it, the more that seemed to suit the traditional dynamic of prostitute and client. Fortunately for them both, Remus enjoyed either, and he switched between topping and bottoming, depending on whom he was with at the time. 

"If you both agree, then we could enact the scenario tonight," Remus continued, growing more animated as if he was excited by the idea. "I, as the pimp, will begin the proceedings, and once you're ready, I'll leave the two of you alone to continue the scene. The only rule will be that you don't break character," he said, wagging his finger at them, his expression stern. "The whole point of this exercise is to help you break out of your usual behavior patterns, and you can't do that if you revert as soon as I leave the room." 

Sirius glanced at Severus and shrugged. "Makes sense to me." 

"To me as well," Severus agreed. In truth, he rather liked the idea. He had never played a role that didn't involve mortal peril, and it would be a pleasant change. Not to mention, the thought of pretending to be a prostitute made him feel wicked; it was an illicit thrill he wasn't accustomed to, but he liked it. 

Remus nodded, bestowing a pleased smile on them. "Beyond that, what you do is up to the two of you to negotiate as client and prostitute. There is one other condition, however." 

Severus narrowed his eyes while Sirius raised both eyebrows. "What's that?" Sirius asked, his tone echoing the suspicion Severus felt. 

"Nothing too taxing," Remus said soothingly. "I want you to spend the night together in the same bed, that's all. Even when you've finished playing, I don't want you to return home, not until tomorrow morning. All right?" 

Severus glanced over at Sirius only to find him glancing back with a dubious expression that Severus felt must mirror his own, but Severus nodded, and Sirius mumbled, "All right." 

"Good. That's settled, then." Remus' voice was filled with relief, and he visibly relaxed. "Right. Well, I'll make the arrangements. Severus, I would like you to meet me at the pub at seven o'clock. Sirius, you will join us an hour later. That ought to be enough time to prepare." 

With that, he turned and left the bedroom, a spring in his step that Severus hadn't seen in quite some time. That alone was reason enough for him to go through with this scheme, but the thought of it working, of being able to stay... It scarcely seemed possible, but if there was a chance, he was willing to take it, no matter how silly or mad Remus' prostitution role-playing game seemed. 

The afternoon seemed interminable, the hours dragging on as Severus fussed around his workroom, trying and failing to find something to occupy his mind and hands, something that might make the time pass more quickly. He was torn between unpacking in hopes for the best and keeping his things packed so he could get away more quickly if Remus' plans failed; in the end, he kept everything packed, his innate pessimism reminding him that things tended not to go well for him. A thousand times, he considered calling the whole thing off and fleeing to Tahiti anyway. A thousand times, he forced himself to remember that Remus had said he and Sirius both wanted the same thing. 

What he wanted was... He grimaced, scarcely able to admit the truth to himself. He wanted a place in Sirius' affections.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

Love. He wanted Remus and Sirius to love him as he loved both of them. That was what he wanted. If Remus knew that - and somehow, Severus thought he did - and believed Sirius wanted the same thing, then perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps this game could help them break out of their old patterns and make a connection. 

With that hope in mind, he went to the pub at the appointed time with every intention of taking the game seriously and doing his best to play his role. It would be difficult and terrifying and probably awkward and embarrassing too, but if it got him what he wanted most, it would be worth the effort in the end. 

When he arrived at the pub, he asked for Remus Lupin's room and was shown upstairs to room #22. The door was unlocked, and it creaked when Severus pushed it open and peeked inside. His eyes widened as he looked around. He expected to see the dinginess and mismatched furniture that the rooms at the pub typically sported, but instead, he saw lush surroundings worthy of any seraglio. 

Remus went to greet him and reached for his hand, pulling him into the room and smiling shyly. "Do you like it?"

"It's.... not what I expected," Severus said, still looking around in wonderment. 

Remus had transformed the dark, drab bed curtains, drapes, and rugs into lush jewel colors, there were silk sheets on the bed, and thick candles burned everywhere, filling the room with a warm, golden glow. A small table hosted an array of toys, and Severus spotted a blindfold, fur-lined handcuffs and a large plumed feather before he averted his gaze. 

"I thought perhaps creating an atmosphere might help set the scene." Remus squeezed his hand and then released it. "Come on - it's time to get you ready." 

Getting ready by Remus' definition meant conjuring a huge claw-footed tub, filling it with hot water, scrubbing Severus down with something called "exfoliating gloves", and using products with names like "Apricot Glow" and "Lavender Chamomile Whipped Blend" on him. When Remus finished with him at last, Severus' skin tingled, but he had to admit whatever Remus had done to him had given his sallow skin a bit of color, and his hair - which was naturally oily and which he had long since given up trying to deal with - was clean and glossy. How long it would last, he didn't know, but for now, he didn't look half-bad. 

"Here, put this on." After banishing the tub and packing away the bath products, Remus retrieved a navy blue silk dressing gown and held it out to Severus, who eyed it dubiously. 

"What about underpants?"

"No underpants." 

Severus swallowed hard. "Pyjamas?" 

"No, just this." Remus pushed the dressing gown at him again, and Severus took it and shrugged into it, wrapping it around himself and tying the sash tightly. "There. See? Perfectly modest, and yet easy to remove once things heat up." 

Severus thought about what "heating up" entailed and fidgeted a bit. For all that he had been living with Sirius for months, Severus felt as if he was meeting a new lover for the first time, and in a sense, he was. They had never even kissed, and suddenly, they were about to play a kinky game meant to end with sex. First time sex. 

"What is he like?" he asked, the question falling off his tongue before he realized he meant to ask it. 

Remus glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "I assume you mean in bed." 

"Yes." Severus could feel heat suffusing his face, but he lifted his chin, determined not to back down. 

"Aggressive," Remus said after mulling over the question for a few moments. "Dominating. He likes to be in charge, and he can be rough when he's in a certain mood. But for all of that, he's also quite eager to please. It's the canine in him, I suppose. He tends to focus on his partner's pleasure before his own." Remus stopped smoothing and tucking the sheets, which were already picture-perfect, and faced Severus with a rueful smile. "It seems so odd to discuss this with you. I've made love with you both, yet now I'm leaving the two of you alone to be with each other for the first time." 

"You aren't jealous, are you?" It was Severus' turn to raise a questioning eyebrow. 

"No." Remus smiled and shook his head, moving to stand in front of Severus and reaching out to caress his shoulders. "It's just odd, that's all. I've been in the middle for so long, but one way or another, that's about to change." His smile widened, and he framed Severus' face between his hands. "I feel like I'm sending my virgin son off to be deflowered, which makes no sense at all, since you certainly are no shy innocent, but there you have it." 

_Do you think he'll like me?_ The question burned on Severus' lips, but he refused to utter it, refused to admit such doubt and weakness, even to Remus. But either he was transparent, or Remus understood his trepidation without being told. 

"It will be fine," Remus said, stroking his cheeks gently. "I think if the two of you could just put everything aside and get naked, compatibility won't be an issue." 

With that, he stepped back and lifted his wand. "Time to get myself ready," he said. "Sirius will be here in a few minutes." 

As Severus watched, Remus Transfigured his robes into a horrible Muggle garment that Severus remembered from the Seventies. A leisure suit, he thought it was called. Next, Remus conjured a broad-brimmed hat with feathers jutting from the band and a cane with a handle in the shape of a wolf. 

"What the hell?" Severus gaped at him, feeling as if his eyes were going to start bleeding at any moment from the sheer tackiness of the ensemble. 

"I'm a pimp," Remus said, looking down at himself and appearing pleased. "I thought I should look the part."

"All I can say is thank God _you_ aren't my client, looking like that," Severus retorted with a disdainful sniff, and Remus grinned cheekily. 

"Well, it _is_ a game. We might as well have fun with it. Or _I_ should, given I'm the one returning to a cold, empty house." Remus batted his lashes, and Severus let out a snort. 

"Think of the good side: you'll have an entire evening of peace and quiet without any need to referee or bandage anyone up." 

"There is that." Remus might have said more, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Severus drew in a deep breath, bracing himself as Remus went to answer the summons. 

Sirius stepped inside, glancing around and growing wide-eyed much as Severus had done, and Severus bit back an evil snicker. "This is... different." 

Under normal circumstances, Severus might have said, "We can move to the nearest alley, if you'd feel more at home there," but tonight, he refrained. 

Sirius' eyebrows nearly reached his hairline when he noticed Remus' costume, and he laughed as he circled Remus, studying the details. "Damn, I wish I had a camera. Maybe you should save this idea for Hallowe'en." 

"I might at that." Remus smiled and then craned up to kiss him on the cheek. "Now that we're all here, shall we get started?"

Severus glanced at Sirius and once again found him glancing back; he thought he saw a flash of trepidation in Sirius' pale grey eyes, and the sight was oddly reassuring. At least he wasn't the only one who was uncertain, and perhaps it was a sign that Sirius was invested in making this relationship work, as Remus said he was. 

"Might as well." There was no hint of uncertainty in Sirius' voice, however. It was a lazy, cocksure drawl, the kind that usually put Severus' teeth on edge, but not tonight. Tonight, Severus knew it was as much of a smokescreen as his own icy hauteur. 

"Very well, then." Remus glanced back and forth between them and nodded. "The game begins - now." With that, he moved to Severus' side, hooked one arm around Severus', and drew Severus closer to Sirius. "If it's satisfactory company you want," he said with a lewd wink at Sirius, "here he is. He's my best." 

"I don't know..." Sirius stroked his chin as he studied Severus, who felt like he was going to have his teeth checked at any moment. "He seems a little distant." 

"I wouldn't worry about that, sir." Remus lifted his cane and ran the silver handle along Severus' jaw. "He's quiet now, but he turns into quite the wanton - in the right hands, of course," he added with a challenging smirk. "You see this mouth? Quite accommodating and quite talented. He has a wicked tongue, sir, in more ways than one." 

Severus couldn't help smirking as well, Remus' praise giving him a little boost of confidence, so much so that when Remus brushed the wolf's head across his lips, he darted his tongue out to lick it. A flush rose in Remus' cheeks, and Sirius' eyes widened, and Severus felt quite smug indeed at having evoked such reactions. 

"You just have to know how to touch him," Remus continued in a far huskier voice, and he splayed his free hand on Severus' chest, stroking it through the silk dressing gown. "Then all the ice melts away, and you'll be surprised what you find beneath."

"What will I find?" Sirius sounded a little breathless, and his eyes had darkened as he stared at Severus. 

"That, sir, I leave for you to discover." Remus smiled wickedly. "Turn around now," he instructed Severus, tapping him with the cane. Exercising obedience - for once - Severus turned, and Remus patted his backside. "A lovely, tight arse, this is. He's quite the obliging bottom. A little pushy, but oh, so willing. You won't have any challenge to your dominance with him. This one loves it best when he's flat on his back with his legs spread wide." 

Severus felt a rush of heat in his face, and he opened his mouth to protest, but then he remembered he was supposed to remain in character. Besides, he couldn't deny it; Remus had spoken nothing but the truth. It just seemed so sordid when couched in such terms. But then Severus peeked at Sirius and noticed a lusty glitter in his eyes and a telltale bulge in his trousers, so perhaps Remus knew what he was doing after all. 

Feeling a little daring, Severus cocked his hip and smirked over his shoulder at Sirius, wiggling provocatively against Remus' hand; Remus cupped his arse and squeezed, and Severus didn't try to squelch the soft moan that rose to his lips. 

"See?" Remus flashed a wicked look at Sirius as he squeezed Severus' arse again. "So responsive and such lovely sounds he makes. You'll get your money's worth if you stroke him the right way." 

"I want to try." Sirius' voice was unusually husky, and the sound of it set off little flutters in Severus' stomach; the time was drawing near when it would be just the two of them, and that would be the true test. 

"He's all yours." Remus gave Severus' arse one last little pat and then he moved away. "Play nicely," he added as he headed for the door, swinging his cane. Severus wasn't certain if it was an in-character or out-of-character admonition, but either way, he knew he wasn't the only one hoping things wouldn't degenerate once he and Sirius were alone.

When the door closed and locked behind Remus, Severus turned to face Sirius, and they stood and looked at each other in silence for an interminable moment. It seemed they had reached another impasse, neither of them wanting to take a risk and make the first move, and Severus felt a lead weight form in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps this simply wasn't meant to be. 

But then he remembered Remus' instructions about not breaking character. If he played the part of a willing prostitute, then he could end this stalemate. If Sirius rejected him, then he would have to hex the damned mutt to hell and back, but at least he would be able to tell Remus he had done his best. 

"You're paying," he said at last. "You don't have to play nicely if you don't want to." 

Sirius blinked as if startled, and then a slow, lazy grin bloomed on his lips. "Yes, I'm paying - quite a lot, too. Let's have a look and see if you're worth it." He reached out as if he intended to unfasten the sash at Severus' waist, but then he stopped and glanced up, a fleeting questioning look crossing his face, as if he wasn't certain he ought to or would be allowed to do so. 

Severus stepped forward, closing a little of the distance between them, and gave a brief nod; the hesitation fled from Sirius' face and fingers, and he made short work of the knotted sash. The folds of the dressing gown fell open, baring Severus, not quite fully, but close enough, and he resisted the urge to snatch the garment closed again or to fold his arms across his chest as Sirius gave him a slow, thorough once-over. 

Instead of speaking, however, Sirius stretched out his hand and rested his fingertips at the base of Severus' throat, stroking gently, and then he splayed his hand on Severus' chest, sliding it beneath the folds of the dressing gown and flicking one pebbled nipple with his thumb. 

Already Severus found it difficult to breathe, and he parted his lips as he leaned closer; Sirius bent his head, and he could feel Sirius' hot breath on his cheek. Their eyes met, both of them panting softly, swaying closer yet neither closing that last remaining distance to claim the kiss hanging between them. Severus could feel the crackle of heat and tension in the air, building, stretching - and then it snapped, and they were devouring each other, mouths eager and wet and hungry as they engaged in a battle of tongues and teeth and fierce, desperate need. 

Severus' fingers were uncharacteristically clumsy as he yanked at the buttons of Sirius' shirt, but he fumbled them open at last and pushed the shirt down and off. Then it was his turn to look, and he pulled away enough so he could take in the details. Sirius' body was lean and spare from the waist up, and Severus imagined it was the same from the waist down; although his ribs weren't visible, he hadn't gained much extra padding in spite of living comfortably for several months. His chest was smooth and hairless, and Severus gave in to the temptation to run his hands over the expanse of skin, the heat of Sirius' body searing his fingers and making his arousal double. 

"Like what you see?" Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him, and Severus smirked. 

"You're better than some clients I've had." That earned him a swat on the arse, and he gasped, shocked by the unexpected playfulness. Usually a remark like that was prelude to a quarrel, but not this time. 

"Time for you to put that saucy mouth of yours to better use." And then Sirius' mouth was on his again, forceful and demanding, and Severus moaned, surrendering without hesitation. He had wanted this - wanted Sirius - for so long, and now it was real. Sirius was kissing him, desiring him, and all Severus wanted to do was offer himself up, silver platter optional. 

"What did you have in mind?" Severus' eyes were half-lidded as he tilted his gaze up to meet Sirius'. It was odd being the shorter partner in the embrace; his penchant for using height to loom and intimidate was of no use here, but he found he didn't miss it when Sirius was cupping his arse through the silk dressing gown and grinding against him. 

"Suck me." 

Severus was on his knees and unfastening Sirius' trousers in a flash, and he smirked with smug satisfaction at freeing Sirius' cock and finding it hard and leaking - all for him. He dragged his tongue along the underside, tracing the vein, and then gave the head a single, slow lap, liking the hissing breath Sirius sucked in almost as much as he liked the taste of Sirius. His cock wasn't as thick as Remus', but it was longer, and Severus squirmed with anticipation at the thought of that hard length inside him. 

He curled his fingers around the base of it, holding it still so he could tease the slit with just the tip of his tongue before working his tongue beneath the foreskin, not giving Sirius what he really wanted until Sirius fisted one hand in his hair and pushed, not roughly, but a clear signal for Severus to get down to business - and he did. He relaxed his throat and drew Sirius deeper and deeper until his nose was pressed against the coarse, dark hair of Sirius' groin, and Sirius groaned. 

"God... I'd no idea you could do that..." 

If Severus had been less intent on rendering Sirius entirely incoherent, he might have smirked, but as it was, he deferred the smirking for later and cupped Sirius' balls instead, kneading them as he sucked and licked and took Sirius deep again and again until at last Sirius yanked on his hair, pulling him back. 

"Enough!" Sirius was panting, his eyes glazed over with lust. "Get on the bed."

Severus' tiny smile was lofty as he rose to his feet. "How do you want me?" 

Sirius flashed a feral grin. "On your back with your legs spread wide." 

Severus swallowed hard past the sudden dryness in his throat, all smugness fading in the wake of intense arousal, and he hastened to shrug out of his dressing gown and leap onto the bed, eager to obey that particular request. Reclining against the pillows, he bent his knees and let his legs fall open, his cock brushing against his stomach and leaving patches of glistening fluid on his skin. He was tempted to stroke himself as he watched Sirius strip off the rest of his clothes, but he didn't think it would take much to send him over the edge, and he didn't want that yet. 

Pausing long enough to grab the bottle of oil on the bedside table - another of Remus' little touches, Severus supposed - Sirius climbed onto the bed and knelt between Severus' legs. A predatory smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he poured a generous dollop of oil into his palm, but when he started to coat his fingers, Severus snaked his hand out and grabbed Sirius' wrist. 

"I don't want your damned fingers," Severus growled.

Sirius' eyes widened, but he didn't hesitate to comply, putting on a show as he coated his cock with oil - licking his lips and moaning and giving Severus what he probably thought was a sexy, sultry look through half-lidded eyes. And it was, damn it, Severus thought sourly even as he ogled the wanton display shamelessly. 

Sirius guided Severus' legs up to rest on his shoulders, and Severus' breath caught in his throat at the blunt nudge of Sirius' cock against his entrance. This was real. This was it. He was about to be fucked by Sirius Black, and then Sirius was pushing, thrusting, and Severus threw his head back, his hands scrabbling amid the sheets as his body was breached, taken, filled. 

They were both panting when Sirius was sheathed within him at last; a bead of sweat hung suspended on the end of Sirius' nose only to fall. The only sound in the room was the echo of their harsh breathing, and for Severus, it seemed as if time had stopped in this moment, the culmination of their struggle - unity after nearly thirty years of discord. 

The bead fell, splashing on Severus' chest, and the moment was gone, swept away by the sudden, relentless pounding of Sirius' hips. Severus clutched Sirius' shoulders, his nails digging into the pale flesh, but if Sirius even noticed the sting, he didn't seem to care. With a low growl, Sirius curled his fingers around Severus' cock, fisting it roughly, and a garbled obscenity burst from Severus' lips, followed by a litany of pleas and profanity intermingled. It was too much. He had waited and wanted too long to hold on now, and he clawed at Sirius' back as he came hard and fast, his world greying at the edges. 

Heavy-limbed with satiation, he slumped against the mattress and gazed up at Sirius with slumbrous eyes, and then he dug his nails into the sweat-slick skin of Sirius' back again. "Are you going to fuck me properly or not?" He threw out the words as a challenge, and Sirius took it up, pulling almost all the way out and slamming into him again hard almost enough to make Severus' teeth rattle. 

"Yes..." It was a low, sibilant moan that rose from Severus' throat as he clung to Sirius, holding on for dear life as Sirius pounded into him, fucking him with wild, relentless abandon, harder even than Remus on the nights before the full moon when the wolf crawled beneath his skin. 

Severus didn't know how long it lasted; he only knew he didn't want it to stop. He reveled in the roughness, the possessiveness, and he let himself be swept up in the maelstrom that was Sirius Black, echoing Sirius' cry of ecstasy as Sirius drove deep and came even though he was already thoroughly spent. 

There was a minute or so of heaving chests and labored breathing as they struggled to catch their breath, and then Sirius eased Severus' legs off his shoulders and rolled to collapse beside Severus. 

"Remind me not to doubt Remus again," Sirius said, still sounding breathless as he sprawled, taking up more than his share of the bed. 

"About what?" Severus rolled his head on the pillow, too sated to grumble about the encroachment. 

"About you. I thought if the ice _did_ melt, there would only be more ice underneath." He let out a barking laugh. "I'll admit I was wrong-" 

"For once," Severus muttered. 

"-and glad to be so." Sirius rolled onto his side and began nudging Severus until he took the hint and rolled onto his side too - and then Sirius spooned up behind him, throwing one arm across his waist and nestling close, just as he did with Remus. "We should clean up." 

"Later." 

"Wet spot?"

"Don't care. Shut up." 

"Right." 

Five whole minutes of silence reigned, and Severus relaxed, finding himself as comfortable in Sirius' embrace as he did in Remus'. It was different feeling Sirius' lean, rangy form pressed against him rather than Remus' shorter, stockier body, but he liked it. He liked them both in different ways for different things, and he thought he understood now why Remus said it would be like cutting off a limb to choose. But just as Severus was settling in and preparing to let himself doze off, Sirius spoke up. 

"Remus said he found you packing." Sirius' voice was quiet, muffled against Severus' shoulder blade, and Severus felt Sirius' arm tighten around him. "He said you planned to leave on Monday if things didn't work out this weekend." 

"Yes." Severus went still and tense, scarcely daring to breathe as he waited for whatever might come next. 

"Don't." 

It took a moment for that single word and all its implications to sink in, but once it did, Severus relaxed. He had no illusions that things would be perfect and harmonious between the two of them from now on; butting heads was simply what they did. It was as ingrained into their natures and their interaction as it was ingrained in Remus to be the peacemaker. But he knew he wasn't the outsider now; he belonged with both of them as surely as they belonged with each other and with him, and they would find a way to make it work. 

"Very well," he replied, nestling back against Sirius' lean body. "Now shut up so I can go to sleep." 

"Bossy git." The words were soft and sleepy as Sirius insinuated his leg between Severus' thighs. 

"Annoying mutt." 

But Severus' lips curved slightly upward as he closed his eyes and breathed out a slow, quiet sigh of contentment. In the morning, they would tell Remus that his plan had been a success. Better yet, perhaps they ought to show him, Severus thought. After all, there wasn't any reason why the three of them shouldn't play together now. 

They would still need the Assignation Room, but they would have to revise the schedule, and Severus suspected there would be less call for time spent in pairs from now on - and he suspected there would be a great deal more voyeurism as well. There would still be quarrels, of course, but the chasm had been bridged at last.

Tomorrow, Severus Snape would be going home.


End file.
